


Sometimes To Lose Is To Find

by SophieSwiftieSammy



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: AU, Amnesia, M/M, Mythology - Freeform, Near-Death Experience, sorta - Freeform, the guardians were plotting an evil plan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-28
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2019-05-29 21:32:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15082166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SophieSwiftieSammy/pseuds/SophieSwiftieSammy
Summary: Jack wakes up with amnesia in a forest. He is taken by a strange man in black who turns out to be Pitch Black, the Nightmare King. Jack's right leg is also paralyzed so he fully depends on Pitch. What will happen after and why is he in this situation?





	Sometimes To Lose Is To Find

**Author's Note:**

> So basically I wrote this because I was bored. It's all sorta OOC and stuff, and note that there is a lot of buggin' plot twists that happen too fast. THIS IS NOT A MAXI! I'm actually worried about how this is, but I like it somehow. Enjoy!

CHAPTER 1

_It’s dark._

That was the first thing that formed into words in the boy’s mind. He had woken up like this: laying on his back in a dark forest, next to something very big, probably a mountain. He felt his body for injuries, doing it so as if he’d done it many times before. It turned out his right leg couldn’t move at all, and his head was badly hurt, but it didn’t feel like a concussion. The boy concentrated on his brain, trying to find something useful in there. But it was empty.

He remembered nothing. Who he was, where he came from, where he was right now, who his parents were. Even his name had been wiped from his memory. There was _something_ ; feelings. Feelings were the only thing left for him, apart from basic knowledge of how the world worked, for example, that in summer it was warm and that in winter it was cold. _Winter._ The word somehow triggered some feeling inside of him, the feeling of belonging. He probably liked winter. He also remembered it was nice and light during the day, and that at night it was dark, but you could see the Moon. The words “dark” and “Moon” also seemed meaningful. It seemed like he had had a bad experience with darkness and a good one with the Moon. That seemed strange, but the boy didn’t care much. After all, he’d just woken up with complete amnesia, who was he to talk?

The boy tried to stand up, but it was no use with his right leg completely paralyzed. But he managed to sit up and get a better look at his surroundings. There were a lot of trees, fir trees. One of them, right next to the boy, had three or four broken branches. He must have fallen from that mountain behind him and crash landed on the poor tree. It didn’t seem like winter at all to him, it wasn’t cold, and there was no snow, except for… frost? The boy noticed there was a lot of frost around where he was sitting, getting thicker and thicker approaching the boy. This was weird; he touched it, and suddenly the icicle beneath his hand grew bigger in size, covering with frost that made up beautiful pictures. The boy quickly retracted his hand, scared. That was indeed weird. To check his idea, the boy touched another icicle, just to the left of the previous one. It worked again, and again, and again. The boy didn’t remember his past life, but he was sure he’d never been that afraid. The power he seemed to have wasn’t normal.

To distract himself from that abnormality, the boy decided to look at himself. He noticed that he wasn’t wearing any shoes, but his bare feet weren’t freezing, although the ground around them was completely frozen. His legs were covered with brown pants that came down to approximately mid-calf. Looking further up, the boy discovered his upper body was dressed in a blue hoodie that had frost on it too, although not as much, just a little here and there. “Maybe even my name is Frost”, the boy thought with a joke, and immediately he felt something that could be similar to being electrocuted in the brain. He hoped these were memories coming back, but he was wrong. “Perhaps I struck the right chord, maybe it will come back later”, he thought. The boy picked up one of the icicles, a clear one, and, being careful not to freeze it all over, he looked at himself. The icicle was a poor mirror, but he didn’t need much. What he saw surprised him. His hair was white. Completely. As he could recall, only old people had white hair, and even then it wasn’t _white_ , more like gray. And he felt very young; maybe eighteen or something, and he looked it. Perhaps this was another thing from his past that he couldn’t recall. His face was nice, from what he could make out: he had big blue eyes with a hint of gray, or maybe they were gray with a hint of blue; a small nose, thin lips, and, to his surprise, completely white cheeks. He probably had to get used to discovering snow and white all over himself.

The boy turned right, where he hadn’t exactly looked before. Next to him, maybe a few feet away, there was a stick. He didn’t know how it had ended up here, but he was sure it belonged to him. More than that, he felt a strange connection between himself and the stick. _Staff_ , he suddenly corrected himself. It was a staff, _his_ staff. The staff was all covered in ice and frost (already unsurprisingly); it was long, probably longer than the boy himself. He suddenly felt a bizarre urge to reach for his staff, take it and maybe do something with it. Perhaps it helped him with his powers? And again, this electrocution that brought no results like the last time.

The boy reached out, but obviously didn’t manage to grab the staff. It was too far away. The only way to get to it was to crawl, as walking was impossible with a paralyzed leg. The boy gathered all his strength and rolled onto his right side; then he fell on his stomach and spread his arms out in a manner that reminded him of swimming. He pushed on the ground with his left leg and, gripping the ice in front of him hard, pushed himself along the ground to his staff. It was still pretty far, so he made another push and turned on his left side, pulling his right part of the chest up and extending his right arm. One push with his left hand, and he grabbed the staff.

It was simply _perfect_. It felt so familiar and good in his hand the boy wanted to cry. He couldn’t recall what to do with the staff, but his hand helped him, and he moved it in a circle, waiting for the result. The staff made a small snow storm in the air, and the boy reached out with his hand, somehow sure it wouldn’t do any harm, at least to him. He touched the snow he had made, and it felt good, pleasant, like this was what he was supposed to do. And then the fear striked again. Who was he, and how did he get this power? Had… had he been punished for having it by having been thrown off the mountain? The boy suddenly recalled the Middle Ages, or at least that was their name in the boy’s mind, when witches and sorcerers had been burned in the name of… God? That word felt wrong somehow, as if the boy was sure that God didn’t exist. But how could he be?

Suddenly, he heard a faint noise from the trees. He didn’t know who was coming, but he suspected it was a wild animal, as he could see a shape with four legs. The boy grabbed his staff and pointed it at the place where the animal presumably was. And then it showed itself.

It was a horse. A very big horse, and it certainly wasn’t at all like the boy pictured it. Yes, it had a mane, a tail, a body, but it somehow… defied the laws of nature. It was made of black smoke, all of it. It was slowly approaching the boy, but made no sound at all while it should have. It shook its muzzle back and forth, breathed in some air making its nostrils grow larger, and then looked at the boy with giant red eyes.

Fear was the only emotion the boy could feel. It seemed like the horse was to blame here, like it somehow transferred the fear to the boy while feeling none itself. Who knew, maybe it had no feelings at all. But the boy knew he felt fear too; the horse looked very, very scary with those devilish red eyes and a black body made of smoke. But then the fear went away quickly, as if something had clicked in the boy’s mind. The horse jerked away at that same moment, as if suspecting something was off. The boy, knowing he couldn’t get up and fight the animal, grabbed his staff tighter and closed his eyes. If he was to die, it would be with pride, and he had to at least _try_ to fight it. He threw his hand with the staff forward and hoped that his powers would come to the rescue. He concentrated, but… nothing happened. Fear spread in his veins again, and the horse began approaching. It seemed like it liked it when you were afraid of something.

The boy roared and tried again. But his staff remained still, but the horse was coming ever closer, opening its mouth to apparently feed off the boy, but then multiple things happened at the same time.

A loud “ _Stop!_ ” came from the trees; at that instant the horse froze mere centimeters from the boy’s face; the staff suddenly worked, and a huge lump of ice formed in the air and hit the horse on its head. The next moment, the horse screamed (it was definitely painful) and sprinted off back in the forest. The boy, still shocked from what had happened in some ten minutes, sat still, but he knew he couldn’t probably do better than that.

The boy hung his head, but then he noticed a movement in the forest again, right where the horse had come from, but this time it didn’t look like an animal at all. It looked more like a human, but it didn’t appear to be. The boy couldn’t make out the details from where he was sitting, but he was certain the creature had gray skin and yellow eyes. It was enough to scare anyone away from him – it was definitely a man – and especially, make everyone hate him. The boy didn’t know why, but a wave of hatred washed over him upon the sight of the figure, but at the same time… was it gratitude? What could it mean? At that moment something clicked in the boy’s brain, and he felt like this man and darkness were connected somehow, but he didn’t know how.

The man walked from behind a tree, and the boy could get a better look at him now. The man was tall and looked much older that the boy himself, maybe he would be thirty-five if he was a human. He had black hair, slick and shiny, and the boy decided it was tied in a bun or a simple ponytail down at the back of his head. His eyes were yellow with little sparks of orange, his mouth looked more like a straight line than a normal mouth, and it was curved in a smirk. The man was dressed in black from head to toe, his shirt unbuttoned at the top so his gray chest was showing. His pants were slick, but not skinny, and they looked more like one would wear to the office than to a walk in the forest. He also had a black cape fastened on his neck and hanging off his shoulders, going down his back. Everything about that man felt strange and somehow… familiar? But the boy didn’t change his mind; he still didn’t like that man.

And then the man spoke.

\- Jack, Jack, Jack… Even after such an injury, you still find the strength to fight my Nightmares. Wait, I wouldn’t call this strength; this is more like recklessness.

The boy was stunned. What was this man talking about? Who was Jack? Who were Nightmares? Was this horse a Nightmare? Wait, did the Nightmares belong to this man? How, why and… who were they to each other?

\- Um, excuse me… - the boy failed to continue; he didn’t know the man’s name.

\- What, are you apologizing? The mighty Jack Frost is apologizing? Now I have really seen everything.

\- Who is Jack Frost? – the boy asked curiously. The name felt eerily familiar…

\- Do not play jokes with me, Jack Frost! – this man clearly had _very_ little patience. – Don’t make me call my Nightmares back!

\- I am not playing any jokes! I am kind of not in the right position for jokes! – the boy cried. – And who are you anyway? First you save me from that horse and then you start accusing me of something! I don’t even know what you are talking about! Hell, I don’t know anything!

\- Wait, what do you mean by “I don’t know anything”? – the man asked, suddenly curious and not mad at all.

\- I mean, - the boy was still suffocating from anger that filled him. – I don’t remember anything! Anything! All my life is gone; I don’t know who I am, or how I ended up here with my leg paralyzed! I don’t know who you are, and why you treat me like we’re old enemies or something! Well, if you’d like, I would be your enemy again with pleasure, - he spat.

The man suddenly grinned in such an evil way it made the boy shiver. He started approaching him quickly, knowing he couldn’t escape. The boy dropped his staff back on the ice and sighed. He didn’t like that man in black, but he didn’t feel danger in his presence opposed to the horse. Maybe, just maybe that man would give him answers? He wanted them desperately.

\- Little Jack, sitting here with all his pride gone, - the man cooed, standing right in front of the boy. – Do you want answers? I am ready to give them, unlike your little Guardian friends.

\- My friends? Do you know my friends? – the boy was shocked. He even missed his name that had been said by this man for the fourth time.

\- All too well for my own liking, - the man replied. – It is strange they aren’t around. So, are you ready, Jack Frost?

And then something seemed to click in the boy’s mind. That name the man had been repeating, it was _his_. _He_ was Jack Frost. But… but wasn’t it the name of that mythical creature parents always told their children fairy tales about?

\- Oh yes, Jack. Don’t you know? Oh, I forgot, you lost your memory, - the man smiled wickedly, as if having read his mind. – You are a spirit, Jack Frost. Just like I am, just like your _friends_ are.

The boy – _Jack_ – was shocked. He was a spirit? How? Didn’t it mean that he was dead? But that explained the color of his hair, and also his power. And that man too. The whole situation he was in was odd, but he had to somehow accept it and live with it.

\- What’s your name? – Jack asked, wanting to know who he was talking to.

\- My name? – the man laughed. – I am known under many different names, but most people and your little friends call me Boogeyman. My real name though is Pitch Black.

\- Suits you, - Jack spat. Pitch Black? That definitely made sense. The word Boogeyman felt somehow unfamiliar in Jack’s mouth. Was it a nickname? He suddenly remembered all those stories about the scary Boogeyman who came in the night and gave you bad dreams. Was it this one? – But anyway, um… Pitch. Will you tell me my story?

 

CHAPTER 2

\- Not so fast, Jack, - Pitch made a face. – First I need to do something with your… position.

\- My position? – Jack was confused. – What do you mean?

\- Well, I suspect that leg of yours won’t do much good when danger comes, - Pitch grimaced. – You can’t even stand up, can you, poor little Jack? Plus, you aren’t that good at controlling your powers…

\- Stop calling me little! And… no one has ever taught me how to, at least not that I can remember, obviously, - Jack answered quietly. He chose not to address the remark about his leg; he knew Pitch was bloody right, but didn’t want to admit it – Pitch was his enemy anyway, or used to be, for that matter.

\- Right, Jack, I am so sorry, you are three hundred and eighteen, and that is indeed a lot, - Pitch laughed sarcastically. Jack didn’t reply. – About your leg, I can… - he paused here, as if weighing out the pros and cons. – Take you to where I live. No spirit that I know of can enter my home.

\- Live at yours? Doesn’t sound like a vacation to me, - Jack spat, but he cheered internally. At least, there was one creature that wanted him safe, and that was something. But what about his friends? He decided to ask outright. – And what about my friends? Can’t they take me in?

Pitch’s eyes suddenly glowed bright red and orange in contrast to their normal yellow.

\- Your little Guardian friends can shove their help up their… never mind, - he suddenly stopped himself. – Well, this is, of course, your choice, but I wouldn’t stay with them. You don’t remember, but I can easily break into their small homes, you will never be safe there.

\- What’s that to you? – Jack asked suddenly. – Why does my safety trouble you so much? What are you, my mother?

Pitch laughed, so loudly that it made Jack want to curl into a ball because he wanted to die of embarrassment. But he couldn’t show Pitch this.

\- You will understand later, when your memory comes back, - he answered simply.

\- _If_ it ever comes back, - Jack said grimly. Did he even have a chance of returning his memories? Judging by what he felt now, the chances were pretty slim.

\- It will, - Pitch replied with such certainty as if he’d done it more than ten times. – But we need to understand what caused your amnesia. Before it, I will tell you… what I can, by small bits. And I will also teach you how to handle your powers.

\- Why would you need that? – Jack was really suspicious now. That man offered help so blatantly that there just _had_ to be something he couldn’t understand.

\- Because, boy, if you cannot control your powers, you are going to kill yourself with them one day! – Pitch almost exploded. – They are simply going to eat you from inside! Or worse, - he added, already quieter.

\- Oh, - Jack was frustrated. He didn’t know that was possible. He hesitated, but deep inside he already knew what he was going to say.

\- Fine, - he replied, hanging his head. – I will go with you. But you will need to take care of me until I can walk, - he suddenly realized he couldn’t even move a meter without someone else’s help.

\- Of course, - Pitch grinned wickedly. – But if we do it right, your powers are going to heal whatever went wrong in you, and that leg of yours will be good as new, - he knocked twice on Jack’s paralyzed leg, and the boy threw his hand off immediately. He already hated it when this man touched him, but he was also very scared as he couldn’t even feel the touch. That meant only one thing – his leg was in an _awful_ condition, and Jack concluded he needed Pitch’s help even more now, however bad it sounded.

Jack hesitantly accepted Pitch’s hand and attempted to stand up. It worked, but he realized he was completely dependent on the older man here; his whole body weight was pressed into Pitch. He didn’t enjoy that very much, but he had no other choice, except if… Jack held onto Pitch with one hand, bent down and quickly grabbed his staff with the other, returning into his position, but this time he leaned on his staff too which made it obviously easier for Pitch, and for himself, for that matter. He didn’t like to depend on something or someone, and it looked like his trait from the past. Jack wondered if his character would remain the same or be slightly different. Maybe he would morph into an entirely different person? That was scary, but he didn’t have time to think it through, as Pitch called for something, and a horse came out, similar to the first one, but much smaller. Jack held onto his staff in such a familiar way it made him scared.

\- These things, - Pitch turned Jack’s attention to himself. – Are called Nightmares. They are created out of fear. When a human feels fear, these eat it and grow. Nightmares can be fully loyal to me or to anyone who controls darkness, or they might be wild, and in this case you either tame them or kill them, there’s no other way.

\- How can you kill one of those? – Jack wondered, staring at the weird horse – _Nightmare_ – made out of black smoke. – They don’t seem to be… killable.

\- You have so much to learn, Jack, - Pitch sighed, this time tiredly. – You don’t stab them with a knife, you use your powers. Before you lost your memory, you could kill them too.

\- _I_ killed _these_? – Jack raised his eyebrows. – Wow. I was a tough guy.

Pitch said nothing, he just smirked and snorted. Jack didn’t know how to explain it, so he didn’t speak up either. And then Pitch took his hand, the one resting on his shoulder, and brought it to the Nightmare’s neck. Jack felt scared, but he remembered Nightmares felt the fear and fed off of it, so he took a deep breath and touched the creature.

One. Two. Three. Nothing changed.

And then the Nightmare hung his head, as if in defeat. Pitch smiled triumphantly.

\- It knows you now, - he explained. – So you can touch it without any danger to your wonderful cold self, - Pitch seemed to never miss a chance to mock Jack, but he wasn’t offended anymore, instead it seemed funny.

\- I’m glad it won’t eat me, - Jack muttered under his breath, feeling two strong hands wrapping around his waist and picking him up, then settling on the Nightmare Horse. He hated being looked after like this, but he knew that with his leg he had no other choice. He stared at the Nightmare’s back, and soon he felt a body behind his – Pitch must have followed suit. Then he screamed something to the horse, and it took off, somehow jumping into the air and heading towards Pitch’s home.

\- By the way, are Nightmares only horses? – Jack asked curiously, turning to face Pitch who seemed tired of his questions about the Nightmares, so he rolled his eyes at yet another. No, and what did he expect from someone with memory loss? The Nightmares intrigued Jack, so he kept questioning Pitch on their way.

\- Well, not necessarily, but usually yes, and, predicting your next question, no, I don’t know why, - Pitch hissed. – Some think they take the form of the fear that created them, but that seems like bullshit to me. Normally they are horses, but I don’t really care. These are easy to take with yourself wherever you go.

\- Oh, - Jack said thoughtfully. He didn’t really have anything else to say. But yet another question formed in his mind, and he asked it straight away, hoping Pitch wouldn’t suffocate him for this.

\- You said they could be controlled. But they have no emotions other than feeling someone else’s fear, right? So that means they can’t actually be fully loyal to anyone. They are loyal to… fear? – Jack tried to guess. It interested him, and he hoped Pitch wouldn’t ignore his question.

\- Technically yes, but they will obey anyone who gets them the fear they need. I let them go hunting at night so they are fine with me, - Pitch said, irritation clear in his voice, but he still said something, and that cheered Jack up. – Anyway, little Jack Frost, time to get off. We are home.

The Nightmare suddenly rocketed to the ground and silently stepped on the hard soil. Pitch quickly followed and helped Jack do the same, holding him tight, but letting him balance himself too. Jack was thankful, after all, he needed to learn to move without the constant help of Pitch, who seemed to be his only companion for a long while, Nightmares didn’t count.

Jack took a look around, but didn’t notice anything. All he saw was a big open spot in the middle of a forest, similar to the one he came round in. He was confused.

\- Pitch, uh… where exactly is your home? I don’t see anything here.

\- Jack, Jack, Jack… Do you think I’d build a house right here? It would be the same as if I just put up a big sign saying “Welcome Guardians!” - Pitch mocked. – It’s right here. Come on.

Jack followed, gripping Pitch’s arm and his staff, dragging his right leg along. He noticed that there was a darker spot in the near-dead grass, and that was where they stopped. Pitch whispered something, and the next moment there was a hole, presumably leading inside the house.

\- Now hold on tight, this might feel uncomfortable, - Pitch laughed sarcastically.

\- Can’t do anything else, now can I? – Jack retorted, but held firmer. And then… they fell.

 

CHAPTER 3

It was quite a long way down. Jack began to worry they were going to land badly and he would break something in addition to his paralyzed leg. But unexpectedly, the landing was actually quite soft, as if the floor was made of thick wool or something. Jack was very confused at first as he couldn’t see very well and he was scared his eyes had gone blind, but then he slowly got used to the dark, and he noticed it was quite a nice room they were in. Probably it used to be a dungeon or something like it, but Pitch had made it work like a home. Well, Jack was grateful he at least had this now, because lying in that forest was definitely worse.

Jack looked around curiously. The room was indeed very strange. In the middle there was a giant globe with small lights everywhere. Some of them glowed blue, some were yellow, and a few were gray. Just next to the enormous globe Jack saw some kind of a table; it was steady, but old. Underneath the ceiling there were… cages? Yes, it was definitely cages; like that of a bird, but much, much bigger, like they were designed to hold those hors… Nightmares of his. Jack looked behind and noticed a doorway; it didn’t have a door, instead it was covered by some thick material that looked like none Jack knew of. He looked carefully and discovered the same thing was everywhere: the walls, the floor, even the ceiling. That must have smoothed their landing, Jack guessed. Then he saw another door, and another. It looked like this room was the center of the house, and the rest were situated around it.

\- I see you are very curious about where I spend my days, - a sarcastic voice cooed just next to Jack’s ear, and he shivered. It was obvious Pitch was mocking him as bad as he could.

\- Well, that’s only natural, - Jack retorted. – You know, I’m gonna spend my days here too.

\- Do you enjoy my rooms? – Pitch asked and grinned wickedly.

\- This one’s nice, but I think it’s weird, - Jack answered honestly, shaking his shoulders. – I haven’t seen the rest though.

\- The rest are not for living, - Pitch explained. – There’s a library over there, - he pointed to one of the doorways hidden by the dark thing. – Behind there is my study room, - he drew Jack’s attention to the second door.

\- And where does the last one lead? – Jack asked curiously.

\- Dungeons, - came the simple reply. – But if you are allowed elsewhere, you don’t go in the dungeons, you understand me, Jack Frost? – Pitch seemed very concerned.

\- I won’t, but why not? – Jack pressed. Why couldn’t he go there? Who… or what did Pitch keep there?

\- I don’t want you to face it just yet, - Pitch said simply. Jack snorted.

\- You mean later I’ll be able to go there? When I’m ready?

\- Yes. _If_ you are ready. – Pitch cut off. It seemed like he didn’t want to continue this conversation.

\- Okay, okay, - Jack lifted his hands. – I get it. No dungeons, - he smiled. – Well, Pitch, could you tell me something _now_?

\- Let’s sit down first. – Pitch suggested. He walked Jack to the couch he hadn’t noticed earlier, probably because it was hidden in a dark corner, and helped him sit. Jack stretched his paralyzed leg out with his hands so that it lay at an angle to the couch, but Pitch sighed, and with a face like “he’s such an idiot” he pulled Jack’s leg on top of the couch and sat beside it. Jack laid his staff on top of his lap (better say on his left leg) and leaned on the couch, making Pitch turn around to look in his face. He did; he moved further into the sofa and sat opposite Jack.

\- So I am going to tell you information piece by piece, one thing at a time, - Pitch said.

\- Why not tell me all of it? Won’t it be easier? – Jack protested.

\- Because you either won’t believe me, or your head will simply explode, - the man wasn’t the calmest in the world, definitely not. - Either we do it my way or you can go with your amnesia forever. Would you like that?

\- No, okay, okay, I agree, - Jack frowned. Obviously, it meant he would have to stay at Pitch’s longer, which made him uncomfortable. He felt like he was completely dependent on the man, and the thought of it didn’t exactly cheer him up. But he didn’t have a choice, plus, Pitch offered help, he might be dark or fearful, but he was kind to Jack, in his own way. He was sure this was Pitch’s way to show he actually cared, even a little.

\- Fine. So, - Pitch finally began. – I know you told me you had amnesia, but I still have to ask. What do you remember? It may not be facts; it could be feelings, attachments, blurry images from the past. Does anything click in your mind and make you feel like you remember? Anything at all?

Jack thought carefully.

\- Well, - he began uncertainly. – There _was_ something when I woke up, and later too. It’s… it’s just like you said, some feelings. For instance, when I came round, I tried searching my brain for information, but it was empty. Then I tried recalling easy things, like it being hot in summer and cold in winter. And… winter ran a bell somewhere in my mind, and minutes later I discovered that power of mine. And then… I looked up and realized it was night, and I remembered you could see the Moon at night, and it felt… good somehow to think of the Moon, like… of my father or something, although I can’t remember anything about my family, - Jack laughed sadly. He looked at Pitch’s face and saw he was actually _listening_ to him, calculating something. – And then… then I saw a stick and instantly felt a connection, and the word _staff_ appeared in my mind. And… you.

\- Me? – Pitch looked surprised.

\- Yeah, somehow, - Jack worded his sentences carefully. – I thought of darkness once, and it made me feel sort of… hatred, but gratitude at the same time. When I first saw you, I didn’t understand, but then I felt you were somehow connected to the darkness or something, - Jack started gesticulating, moving his staff from left to right pretty quickly.

\- Okay, that’s not as bad as I thought, - Pitch said, more to himself, but then addressed Jack again. – Jack.

\- Yes?

\- When I mentioned your friends, - he looked disgusted. – Does it trigger something for you? Do you… remember anything?

Jack thought. He dug in his feelings and searched for anything that could resemble what Pitch had asked for. But it was useless; he couldn’t find anything related to his friends.

\- I’m sorry, but I can’t. It seems I’ve forgotten them.

\- I see, - Pitch desperately tried to hide his smirk, but Jack noticed it anyway. – So, what you felt about the Moon isn’t exactly a coincidence. He _is_ something like your father.

\- The Moon is my father? – Jack was shocked. – And what do you mean, _he_?

\- Well, you see, you were human once, in the early eighteenth century, but then… you died. I don’t know how, actually, only you could remember it. But anyway, let me continue. When you died, you were chosen to be a spirit. The Moon you kept thinking about is actually not just a rock, it is a representation of an actual spirit, just like you, - Pitch grimaced here, - and me. We call him the Man in the Moon, and he is like a ruler to us. You are not alone however. There are similar spirits; they are pretty much like you.

\- So they are my friends, right? – Jack beamed. But why didn’t he feel anything when he thought of them?

\- They _were_ your friends, - Pitch corrected him. – They are called the Guardians. They look out for kids and see to it that they get presents and such.

\- And who are you? – Jack asked. – What’s your purpose?

\- I am, whether you like it or not, the Nightmare King. I make people, especially children, fear and have bad dreams. But before you think of me as a villain, I will tell you that a little fear never killed anyone, if it is directed where it should be.

\- But I don’t think you’re a villain! – Jack protested. – I do think fear is necessary. Is there anyone who thinks otherwise?

\- Your little Guardians do. What they don’t understand is that we must keep the Balance, or something bad is going to happen.

\- Okay, okay, I get it, - Jack said quickly. He didn’t like where this conversation was going. – So tell me more about this Man in the Moon. What’s he like?

Pitch made a face.

\- The Guardians worship him like he’s their god, no less. I think he’s just a petulant child, plus a narcissist.

\- Why do you think so? – Jack wondered. – These are such different opinions, how can this be?

\- Well, unlike the Guardians who only hear his voice when the Moon is full, I used to live with him and be his almost-brother, - Pitch scowled. – You can trust me, he is no god.

\- Okay, I believe you, - Jack smiled. – But why do the… Guardians think he’s so good when he’s not?

\- I don’t know, - Pitch waved a hand at him. – This is their business. Now, about your power, I can say that you need to be trained. If you can’t handle it, it will turn on you.

\- Well, it looks like I have a good teacher, - Jack smirked and pointed his staff at Pitch. He snorted.

\- You are impossible. Tomorrow we will begin your training. And please, do try to walk less. I will attempt to heal whatever went wrong, but you need to learn to use your powers first. They are going to do the main job. Until you are not strong enough, don’t disturb it or you will only make it worse. You got me?

\- Yessir, - Jack saluted with a grin.

\- Good. Now, it is still late night, so you better go to sleep, - Pitch advised.

\- I have taken your couch, haven’t I? - Jack asked worriedly. – I can leave if you want…

\- And where do you think you will be going with that leg of yours and complete amnesia? – Pitch scoffed. – And this isn’t where I sleep, I have my own bed. Don’t worry about me. – Pitch stood up and was about to leave when Jack grabbed him by the arm.

\- Thank you, Pitch, - he said hastily. – For a place to sleep, for information, for… keeping me alive and safe. Thank you.

\- You are very welcome, - Pitch replied sarcastically. – Now, would you be so kind as to release me?

Jack blushed crimson (although, with his unusual powers, he wasn’t sure if he went red or blue) and let Pitch go. The man disappeared to the study room, flashing one last look at Jack before finally vanishing from sight. Jack sighed and pulled his other leg up on the couch, put his staff to rest against the wall and curled up in a corner; now that Pitch wasn’t there, he could show his weakness. Jack began sobbing, and the sobs finally turned to tears. What had happened in just a few hours was truly too much for him. New information flooded his brain, and he just cried and cried, until he felt something soft, like a piece of fabric, wrap around his shoulders, soothing him. Jack looked at it and realized it was a piece of the same thing that covered everything in here, which he guessed was darkness. He should have understood it was Pitch who had sent it, but he couldn’t bring himself to think about it at that point, so he just curled into the shadow and slowly calmed down, feeling the reassuring warmth coming from it. Slowly then, he drifted to sleep.

CHAPTER 4

Pitch Black relaxed fully only when he closed up in his room. That day had been harsh not only for the stupid little winter spirit, but for him too. Who knew Jack could develop amnesia? Actually, he had expected the young spirit to die after what he’d been exposed to, but the stubborn boy had survived. The only question was how, and Pitch knew he had no one to ask that question. Jack didn’t remember anything, the Guardians… when do they even know an explanation? There was no chance he’d ask the Man in the Moon. No, he wouldn’t. _And anyway,_ Pitch thought to himself. _It’s good Jack has amnesia._ It would only be easier now to convince the boy to be on his side. The only problem was that Jack couldn’t walk, and so the healing process would take much longer than Pitch would like. Right now he had an excellent plan: tell Jack the truth. The whole truth, not just what happened this time. Tell him everything right from the start, and he would jump at the chance to get away from his past life. But… Pitch could feel something strange. Surprisingly, he didn’t want to bring Jack to his side forcefully, like he’d intended. He actually wanted Jack to _willingly_ join him, make his _own_ choice after hearing everything. He wanted Jack to be _free_.

Pitch stood up and made his way to the small window he had, which was open only at night, during day time shadows covered it fully so no light could come through. He freed the shadows and looked up in the sky, glad that it was a cloudy night. He didn’t want to see the Moon, not today. Well, he _never_ wanted to encounter him again, but today was special.

\- Do you even know your little Jackie survived? I wonder if you do. Well, he’s not yours anymore, - Pitch grinned wickedly. – And don’t worry, I am prepared to anything you and your little Guardians are preparing for me.

Pitch waved his hand, and the shadows took their place on the window, cutting Pitch from the outside world completely. He needed to rest. He needed to take his mind off of everything that had happened. He still couldn’t understand the Man in the Moon. No, he knew his intentions very well; he could understand _why_ he had done it. What he couldn’t wrap his mind around was _how_ you could turn on your own creation so wickedly. He was definitely evil, and his Nightmares often felt his wrath on themselves, but he wasn’t capable of doing… _that_. Plus, Jack had… suffered a lot before the crisis, so he had been weak, and that man had just… No, Pitch would never understand. And he would never forgive.

Suddenly he heard something. He actually _felt_ it more than actually _heard_ , but still. Sobs came from the room Jack was in, and soon enough they turned into real crying. Pitch couldn’t remember himself crying ever, he mostly screamed or destroyed things, but Jack was different. He could understand why the young spirit was crying, and he wanted to help him. He stepped to the door, but restrained himself; he was hardly one to calm others down. Instead, he motioned the shadows from the floor to move towards Jack. He knew they’d wrap him tight and soothe him. He didn’t know what else to do, but the shadow trick seemed to work, and Jack quit sobbing. Soon enough, he somehow figured out the boy had fallen asleep. Pitch smiled to himself, not smirked, but actually _smiled_ , and laid on the bed. He could use some sleep, too.

_Jack was standing in a very big room. It was sort of similar to the one Pitch had showed him: it was also big, and it had a globe in the middle. But here the lights were only yellow and gray, no blue. And also it had a lot more furniture inside: a big table, some closets, boxes, shelves, and books. There were so many books Jack imagined there were thousands of them. But apparently, his concern wasn’t the room, but its occupants, and mainly one of them. He looked like a human, but he was a lot taller than Jack himself, and older; Jack would say he was around thirty. He had long white hair, a puffy beard and big blue eyes; his cheeks were red, just like most of his clothing. He looked eerily similar to a mountain as he had an enormous belly and thick long legs. Actually, Jack felt like he was out of some kind of fairy tale. Except that this man wasn’t smiling like he would be in a fairy tale, he looked… helpless._

_\- I… I can explain, - the man in red said hopelessly, bringing his arms forward, trying to touch Jack, but he moved away._

_\- What are you gonna tell me? How you lied to me about everything from the start? How what you are doing is affecting nature? How you are ready to do anything, anything to achieve one goal that doesn’t even make sense? Huh? Tell me, - Jack crossed his arms. Apparently, this man in red had done something very awful._

_\- But… but we were protecting the world, - the man in red tried again. – I thought you will understand._

_\- If you were protecting the world, as you say, could you at least tell me what exactly you were doing? I didn’t exactly feel like part of that plan! – Jack was on the verge of tears. – And that is a stupid plan! This is worse than all the other things you’ve done! To kill an innocent man?! He didn’t do anything to cause what you did, do you know that?!_

_\- But Jack, he did a lot bad things, he nearly killed you! – The man in red was obviously hard to convince._

_\- But that was fair! We fought one on one, and you decided to gang up on him?! Can you even hear yourself?! And by the way, the Man in the Moon is to blame here, you can go to him and tell him the exact same I am telling you! But you know what? Fuck you, - Jack suddenly spat. – You can go to your Man in the Moon and do whatever you want, just don’t try to involve anyone who hasn’t done anything to anyone okay?_

_\- Jack…_

_But Jack turned away and slammed the door behind himself. He had to go for a walk. He flew up in the air and…_

Jack woke up all covered in sweat. He noticed that light was faintly coming through some cracks in the ceiling. That meant it was somewhere near noon, but Jack didn’t care. He was more concerned about his dream. Was it even a dream or… part of his lost memory?

Jack scratched his head and sighed. Amnesia brought on a lot of problems, like not knowing if what you had seen in a dream was real or not. But apparently, he could be sure of one thing. Either way, it _was_ somehow connected to his past, so now he knew at least what his past acquaintances looked like. He didn’t pay attention to all of them though; he only actually looked at that man in red. They were probably good friends or something, but he must have done something terrible. And, Jack sighed happily, in his dream his leg was fine, and that meant he had injured it at the same time he’d gotten amnesia, which actually clarified he’d been seriously hurt, but who could have done this? Jack had no answer to that.

His thoughts were interrupted by Pitch who strode in the room, his face contorted. It looked like he hadn’t rested well.

\- Good morning, - Jack greeted him.

\- It’s noon, - Pitch grumbled. Jack looked at him with concern and smiled a little. That seemed to work, as Pitch’s face softened. – How are you feeling?

\- Fine, actually, but a little… confused, - Jack confessed. He decided not to continue, he didn’t know whether it was a good idea to tell Pitch about his dream.

\- And why, may I ask, is that? – Pitch looked Jack in the eye. The boy knew he’d stare him down until he gave up, so he spoke up.

\- I had a… dream. I saw a situation which I think might be from my past, but I don’t know anyone from there.

\- Really? – Pitch looked surprised. He must have not expected it. – And who did you see?

\- I told you, I can’t recognize them, - Jack repeated. – I remember one of them quite well, it was a tall man in his thirties, and he must have done something terrible, as I was blaming him for… something. I don’t know what though, - Jack sighed and grabbed his staff for support. – But he looked… stressful, and terribly sorry. Do you know who that might be, and what happened?

\- Well, - Pitch pierced his lips, as if trying to choose the right words. – It was someone I know too well. One of the Guardians, your ex-friends, - he grimaced. – Nicholas St. North. I am not entirely sure of what exactly he’s done, because he’s made too many mistakes in his not quite short life.

\- So… This Nicholas, as you say, was my friend… Why can’t I remember any feelings towards him? I mean, I would understand even if it was anger or betrayal, possibly even hatred, but there’s… nothing. Can you explain that? – Jack asked hopefully.

\- Perhaps you were trying to forget about him on purpose before your… accident. But it can be also because you have never felt strong enough emotions towards him. Anyway, - Pitch said, coming a little closer. – I think we shall begin your training.

 

CHAPTER 5

Jack had suspected Pitch wouldn’t be gentle during their lessons, but he hadn’t thought just _how_ that would really feel. Pitch had made him freeze a wall in his study room. Jack had guessed it would be easy at first, but he quite soon realized he had completely forgotten everything he could once do, and his magic was just shooting out at random, totally unfocused.

\- Focus, Frost, focus! – Pitch hissed, it seemed he was ready to kill Jack if he got it wrong once again.

\- I can’t, I don’t know how! – Jack cried hopelessly, turning to Pitch and lifting up his hands, accidentally shooting an ice brick at him. – Sorry.

\- It’s nothing, - Pitch grimaced, and Jack only then saw that he had covered himself with a layer of darkness. – You should concentrate. Try imagining what you want to do. You had conquered my Nightmare in the first hour. Try to recall what you felt back then. – He came closer to Jack, putting his hands on the back of Jack’s chair, as he couldn’t stand up.

\- I don’t remember! – Jack screamed, and another burst flew out of him. This time it froze an unsuspecting Nightmare that had rounded a corner, posing no harm at all.

\- Try harder, - Pitch pressed. – Jack. – He suddenly said softly, putting a hand on his shoulder. – Relax, - he began stroking him lightly. – It won’t do to be so tense. You will never manage anything in that state.

\- I… I think I do remember something, - Jack whispered, mouth open. He hadn’t exactly expected Pitch to touch him that way, to be so gentle. He actually _did_ recall his first encounter with a Nightmare, feelings at least. – I felt… desperate, somehow. I knew I was going to either die or use my staff and kill the hor… Nightmare. So I kind of just… did something.

\- Strong emotions, then, - Pitch said thoughtfully. He kept his hand on Jack’s shoulder and then, after a pause, repeated his two favorite words. – Try again.

And Jack did. He did his best to concentrate on the wall, imagined it all covered with ice. He pictured what the drawings on it would look like, how the white frost would look against the dark wall. He pointed his staff to the wall and attempted to recreate the picture. Of course, it didn’t work.

But then Pitch came closer, and Jack cold feel the heat coming from another body close to his. He unknowingly leaned in the touch, threw his head back and relaxed in the other’s hands. He felt so nice, so warm and so… weird. Jack didn’t know what to call this feeling, but it was surely a mixture of trust and… something else. He accidentally threw the arm with the staff in the air and directed it at the wall. Seconds later, he heard a sound, one that he remembered from his first minutes without his memory. He looked at the wall and saw it… completely covered with a thick layer of ice.

Jack cheered so loudly that Pitch seemed to be scared, as he pulled his hand away. But it seemed ridiculous, Pitch was the Nightmare King, how could he be afraid? Jack turned to him and grinned widely.

\- I got it! Can you see? I got it!

\- All it took was emotions, - Pitch looked at him with what Jack suspected was hidden satisfaction. – Now try it again.

And Jack did. This time he needed only three tries to freeze a wall all over, and he finally understood just what he needed to do to direct his magic. He attempted to touch the сhair, and it immediately went all decorated with frost drawings. Jack laughed and tapped on the floor with his staff, and a large snowflake grew with the middle right under where Jack had touched the floor. Pitch seemed satisfied and maybe even proud, but soon he rolled his eyes.

\- Jack, I perfectly understand you feel happy about what you can now do, but I would be very grateful if you stopped freezing my room. You can do it next to the couch if you like.

Jack took it seriously, and in ten minutes the whole corner was decorated with frost and ice. The boy laughed happily and shifted so his paralyzed leg was closer to the back of the couch, then sat up and reached the wall with his finger, scraping a bit of ice so that it read: “Jack Frost” and a small heart at the end. He just had to hope it wouldn’t melt, and that he wouldn’t be made to do it to Pitch’s room, as he didn’t seem happy with what he’d done back there. Jack immediately felt a pang in his chest, as if he wanted Pitch to have his creations all over and look at them. He didn’t know where it came from, and he preferred not to dwell on it.

Pitch had disappeared in his dungeons right after carrying him to his couch, and he still hadn’t returned. It worried Jack; he desperately desired to find out what he was doing in there. He, obviously, had no chance to: he couldn’t move with his leg, and Pitch hadn’t taught him how to fly yet. He knew he had once been able to, as he got it from his dream, but apparently he needed his power to do it, and he could only freeze things as for now. All he was left to do was wait, patiently. Pitch couldn’t stay there forever, now could he?

Pitch came out only when it was late evening, Jack assumed it was around ten. He had managed to do everything he only could, trying not to die of boredom. But when the Nightmare King entered the room, Jack beamed at him.

\- Had a nice time in the dungeons? – Jack asked, hoping Pitch would tell him what he was keeping there.

\- Not exactly, but that needed to be done. I have completed most of the work, but there is still some left, - Pitch replied, both answering the question and not saying what he had been occupied with all day. Jack pouted.

\- I see. What are you gonna do now? – he questioned.

\- Well, I have a job to do, scare poor little kids who have been naughty, - Pitch mocked, a sarcastic grin perfectly visible. – I will return late, you don’t have to wait for me.

\- Okay, - Jack yawned. – I’ll be going to sleep then I guess. G’night.

Pitch didn’t answer, but what did he even expect from him? A kiss on the forehead? No, Pitch wasn’t like that. However, he cared to look back at Jack just before leaving. Jack, being already half asleep, didn’t know that, but he felt his eyes on him anyway. He smiled.

 

CHAPTER 6

Pitch breathed in the cool air and made himself calm down. What he’d told Jack earlier wasn’t entirely false; he _did_ need to do his job. But there was something so much more important than kids’ fear right now. Pitch almost couldn’t believe he was actually doing this, saving the goddamn world from what he’d once hoped to do himself. But the consequences were too awful for that world’s own good, and he needed to do something, if the Guardians don’t understand the simplest of things.

The Balance. Pitch knew exactly what the Guardians had done, and now the Balance was off. It was kind of weird, actually, as no one had been killed, but he suspected the Man in the Moon wasn’t as good right now as he was supposed to be. Nightmares were roaming the planet freely, creating and reproducing every day; the children were becoming bolder and bolder day by day; nature was going insane, unusually cold winters had struck normally warm places, and that was precisely because one little stupid winter spirit had been on the verge of dying. These were only a few things that were happening, and Pitch had to deal with it. He actually wanted Jack to help him balance everything out, but he was too weak for now. Pitch had no idea what to do with the winters, but he could help with the children and the Nightmares. There were too many of those rogue creatures, and he couldn’t let it slide. But what he needed to do right now was to have a little conversation with the Guardians and try to talk some sense into them, also attempting to find out if they knew Jack was alive.

Nicholas St. North was sipping tea from his cup. Tooth was chirping happily next to him, telling some funny story about a kid who had stayed up late wanting to see her and the Baby Teeth had had to wait until she finally gave up and fell asleep. The others had already gone because it was late, and so they were alone in the castle except for the snoring yeti, one of whom was sleeping right next to the Globe. Suddenly the yeti opened his eyes and roared, signaling someone was inside. Tooth immediately shut up and looked around trying to guess who it could be. Nicholas stood up angrily, because he knew all too well just _who_ could show up like this. And he was right; Pitch Black stepped out of the shadows, surprisingly, all alone, without his Nightmares.

\- Good evening, what a pleasure to have a conversation with you, - Pitch smirked, doing a mocking bow.

\- What you want here? – North boomed, stomping his foot on the floor.

\- Oh, nothing special. Just talking about how you almost destroyed the world by completely misbalancing it when it was already unstable! – Pitch roared, but didn’t draw any weapon of his.

\- What do you mean? We didn’t do anything of the sorts! It’s your Nightmares who are walking free after all! – Tooth cried out.

\- Oh, and why do you think is that? – Pitch huffed. – I keep my Nightmares under control, these are wild, and they need to be killed! And the children, they are becoming worse and worse day by day! Oh, and should I mention the fifty centimeters of snow in Australia? Do you think it was also me? – There it was. If the Guardians knew Jack wasn’t dead, they would spill it here and now.

\- Snow is Jack’s work, - North gritted, but then opened his mouth. – But Jack…

\- Yes, of course, right, I forgot that this is the Man in the Moon’s way of dealing with obstacles, even if they are alive, - Pitch hissed.

\- We did not want this will happen; we did not know it will kill him! – North tried to protest. _Oh yes_ , Pitch thought sarcastically. They didn’t know, right. Except that this was the idea, but Jack had survived it, one way or another. Pitch figured the Guardians didn’t need to know that just yet.

\- Thank you very much for your miserable excuses for someone else’s death. And please do try to think before you do something, I am not in the mood to witness this world’s death just yet. – Pitch gritted and bowed mockingly again. He was leaving, now. North was mad, so he just turned away and stomped off in his rooms.

\- Wait! – Pitch heard, and he turned around to see Tooth hovering next to him, a hopeless look on her face.

\- Yes, dear Tooth? – Pitch smirked.

\- I… I wanted to ask… - Tooth was visibly hesitating. – Did you see _his_ body? Well, you know…

Did Pitch see Jack’s body? Oh yes, he did. He watched him falling from the blasted cliff, watched him convulsing on the ground, and he had to leave to keep his anger at the Man in the Moon under control. But then, mere hours after the fall he felt his Nightmare pick up on a scent, and he followed it only to find Jack at a loss, not knowing how to wield his staff. But Tooth didn’t need to know any of that. But she looked so sincerely sad that Pitch had something click inside him, and he didn’t entirely lie.

\- Yes. – Pitch replied simply.

\- Oh god… I really didn’t want it to come to this… Jack was such a good friend… But you wouldn’t understand, - Tooth snapped and disappeared through a window. Pitch didn’t care to look after her and walked underneath a shadow, also leaving the castle. He had to attempt to calm down the Nightmares and also, as he’d told Jack, _do his job_. Pitch huffed to himself, reappearing near a small village in Norway. Minutes ago he had been talking and blatantly missing out on the fact that Jack was actually alive and (probably) safe and sound on his sofa, curled up in a ball and sleeping, and not lying in the middle of a forest dead. He was going to keep him secret, train him and have him on his side. But a part of him, probably the one that had the last bits of his heart in it, told him that it was more than that. That _Jack_ was more than that. The little winter spirit was stupid and young and naïve, especially now that he had his amnesia, but at the same time he just had this _something_ that left Pitch wondering if Jack was worth only what he’d initially thought of him. What made Pitch curious was what Jack made of _him_ , Pitch. Was he only a shelter and a teacher, and was Jack going to leave once he got the chance? It actually didn’t look like it. But Pitch just waved at it, telling himself not to have false hopes. He had a job to do.

Jack woke up fairly close to dawn, not from a dream, but from a faint noise coming. He couldn’t get up, so he just sat up and grabbed his staff, looking around. The noise was small, like… like a bird flapping its wings. Jack stared in the darkness, hoping he could see something. He carefully searched his surroundings and found nothing, so he decided it was just a dream. And the next moment he saw it.

It looked odd. It wasn’t quite something Jack knew of, but it did seem familiar. It was a tiny creature, probably the size of his thumb, with a human face and feathers all over the rest of its body. The feathers were green and pink for the most part. The creature also had very small wings flapping fast behind its back. If it wasn’t for the human-looking face, Jack would say it was a humming-bird. It looked harmless to Jack, so he reached with his free hand and touched it.

The creature turned its gaze to Jack, and then started screaming.

The screams were a mixture of happiness and shock, from what Jack could make out. The creature seemed to have a fit; it threw itself on Jack and rested in his chest. He uncertainly laid his hand on top of it, trying to calm it down. He started whispering soothing things, hoping the creature could understand him, even though it (probably) couldn’t speak. And then the creature started pulling his finger, trying to get him to… get up?

\- Hey, hey, hey, sorry, I can’t exactly walk, - Jack said. – And I don’t wanna leave, it’s nice here.

The creature made a what Jack thought was a disapproving noise and pulled his finger again.

\- No, ‘scuse me, I’m not leaving, not now. You can go if you want. – The tiny thing flapped its wings and shook its head. Jack threw his arms up in the air, forgetting he had his staff in his right hand. He moved it along the side of the creature and…

A loud _thunk_ was very audible in the dungeons. Jack, horrified, looked down and picked up the thick piece of ice, staring at it in horror. _I just killed a living thing_ , he thought. Fear took over him and he started screaming, accidentally dropping the ice back on the floor. He covered his face in his hands and felt tears run down his cheeks. _He just killed someone. He was a murderer._ Just the thought of it was horrifying, and Jack curled up in a ball and cried loudly until he felt a familiar presence in the room. _Pitch_.

Pitch felt something was wrong mere minutes before sunrise. He felt strong fear close to hysteria, and it was definitely coming from his house. That meant only one thing – _Jack_.

Pitch was almost finished anyway, so he dropped everything and rushed to see what had happened. He feared the worst – the Guardians had found Jack and told him all the scary stories about the monster that kept him. But when he appeared in the room the only person he saw was Jack, curled on the couch, having a fit. He didn’t know what had caused it, and he wanted to find out, but first he needed to calm the little spirit down.

Jack felt a hand resting on his spine and immediately looked up, expecting to see a very mad Pitch, but, to his surprise, all he saw was concern. Jack didn’t expect it to happen, but he threw himself at Pitch and kept crying his heart out, shaking wildly. He could allow himself to be a teenager he actually was right now.

 

CHAPTER 7

Jack didn’t know how long he’d been howling into Pitch’s chest, but he guessed it had been quite a long time since he had no more tears left and for the last five minutes or so he’d just been breathing wildly and blabbering something into Pitch’s shirt. It took him some more time to actually calm down and lift his head, eyes red and swollen.

\- Shit. Sorry for that, - Jack said, lowering his gaze. Oh, he shouldn’t have done this.

\- There is no need for you to say sorry, Jack, - Pitch said, voice unusually caring. – Can you tell me what caused such hysteria?

\- I… I… - Jack started suffocating again, but this time he felt a hand on his chin, lifting his head back up, and he met Pitch’s eyes. – Well, I… I’m a murderer. – Jack breathed out, going red (or perhaps blue).

\- What do you mean? – Pitch asked, surprise barely evident in his tone. – You killed someone?

\- Obviously! – Jack raised his voice, but restrained himself, or he was probably going to throw another fit. – I, sort of… Well, there was this creature in here, I don’t know what it was, it had a human face and green and pink feathers and wings, it started tugging at my finger asking me to leave, I told it I couldn’t and wouldn’t, and it just kept doing it, and I threw my arms up and I forgot I had my staff in my other hand and I accidentally, well… froze it to death, - Jack finished. He’d been saying it all in a low tone, as if afraid of something, gesticulating and mimicking all the time.

\- Jack, it’s okay, - Pitch tried. He was never good at calming people down, and this time he was scared to say something Jack wasn’t ready to hear. Jack unknowingly had saved himself, kept himself a secret by killing the only witness of it who was somehow connected to the Guardians. The only possible problem that could arise was if that Tooth Fairy actually counted her mosquitoes and figured out one was missing. But there were so many of them she shouldn’t notice, so Pitch attempted to calm Jack down without telling him any of this. – Jack, this isn’t even a fully living being. It’s a lot more like my Nightmares than a person, and even I cannot tell you the number of Nightmares you had killed.

\- But it was still alive! – Jack protested. – It was breathing, it… it recognized me! It was actually shocked when it saw me! Pitch… - a thought suddenly occurred to him. – Is it somehow connected to my friends? That… thing.

There it was. This was the question Pitch had feared Jack would ask. Now, he could always lie, but then he would have to follow the story he was going tell Jack, and… Jack deserved to know the truth. Just maybe not all at once.

\- Yes, Jack, - Pitch replied, trying to keep calm. – This is, as I said, the “good” version of a Nightmare. It is a… well, helper of one of the Guardians. I am not quite sure where she got those… mosquitoes, but I can assure you she has thousands of them, and they don’t seem to have… emotional attachments. – Pitch wasn’t telling the entire truth here. Actually, those little things _did_ make attachments, but they weren’t too strong and were stupidly breakable.

\- So I… I essentially murdered one of my friends’ friends. Sounds good. – Jack huffed.

\- Jack, if you are going to throw a fit each time you kill a thing as small as this, you will go insane after two weeks. So please, put yourself back in one piece and get ready, as I am going to drain you today. – Jack knew Pitch was talking about their training. Of course he wouldn’t leave him alone. But the idea of training actually sounded nice to Jack this time, he wanted to take his mind off of things, and hearing the constant sarcasm and getting things wrong did seem as a good way to do it.

That day, as Pitch had told him earlier, was all about defending himself. Jack had no idea why he had to learn it, but Pitch had said that if he was going to stand up for his beliefs, he had to as well learn how to stay alive in the process. Pitch had explained that Jack didn’t need his staff to defend himself, so his precious staff had been taken away, and Jack had to learn how to deal with his magic without it, even though he barely knew how to do things _with_ it.

\- Jack, your staff is like a limb to you, using it is in your blood, - Pitch sighed at the question. – If you get yourself into a dangerous situation, your instincts will take over and you’ll manage to attack with your staff. What I am hopelessly trying to teach you is how to prevent attacks from those who are sure of their movements and not die.

It actually all made sense. Jack remembered how he’d struck the Nightmare on his first day with amnesia when it came too close for his liking. But he had _attacked_ it, not tried to defend himself, and if it wasn’t for Pitch who knew what could’ve happened? Perhaps he would be dead by now.

\- You need to concentrate, - Pitch explained. – I am going to throw darkness at you, and you will try to avoid the attack. Imagine that you have a shield, or whatever you like. Recall yesterday, I told you to picture what you were doing.

\- It didn’t work, - Jack huffed and shifted in his chair. His bloody leg didn’t give him a chance to avoid darkness by dodging it, so he had to use his powers. – It only worked when I felt strong emotions, remember?

\- For the first time, yes, - Pitch agreed. – But then you didn’t have to feel those emotions afterwards. You froze your entire corner without any help. And now… we shall begin, - he smiled wickedly and concentrated his first weapon.

Jack understood what was going on after he’d been hit. Pitch was trying to get him to fear for his life. The darkness he was using wasn’t as strong as it definitely could be, but it was enough to give throbbing pain in Jack’s head. The problem was he wanted to reach for his staff, but it wasn’t around, and he felt helpless without it.

\- Come on! You look like a child, do you know that? – Pitch shouted, hitting Jack with yet another clot of darkness.

\- I don’t! – Jack shouted back, trying to shield himself, but in vain.

\- Well, I know better, - Pitch kept insulting him. – You look so helpless, you know? How were you even able to kill my Nightmares before?

\- Well, I must have been more trained then! According to you, I am three hundred and eighteen; this seems like enough bloody time! – Jack shouted.

\- Oh, and look at you, - Pitch mocked, creating another clot. – So mad, but so funny. Do you know what color you get when you are angry?

\- Shut up! I can’t concentrate!

\- Oh, I’m so sorry, little Jack needs silence to gather his powers.

\- I’m not little! – Jack screamed, and this time, when darkness was thrown at him, he created a large block of ice in front of him, and the darkness hit it instead of him, making a few cracks here and there. He was sure it was bad, but pride that Pitch’s face reflected proved him otherwise.

\- See? All it takes is a little emotion.

\- So you did this on purpose? You were _provoking_ me? – Jack probably sounded incredulous, but he didn’t care one bit.

He didn’t need an answer; Pitch’s face said it all.

\- Oh god, you are _evil_ , - Jack sighed.

\- Yes, I am, - Pitch replied simply and then threw his clot of darkness without a warning. The previous shield had already vanished, so Jack quickly created a new one, a little better looking than the first.

Their training left Jack so tired he couldn’t even move his arms, so Pitch had to carry him back to his couch with the ice and frost still there. He laid Jack gently on the couch and materialized his staff next to him, and Jack grabbed it instantly and hugged it close to his chest. Pitch only laughed at this and asked what Jack was going to be doing for the rest of the day.

\- I mean… what? Isn’t it evening? – Jack asked, curious, but then noticed the sun was still shining through the cracks, so it was about three. – Uh, well. I don’t know, - he replied honestly. – And you?

\- I have nothing to do until it is night, so I suggest you rest a little and then I will try to do something you are going to like, - Pitch said the last words in such a way that made Jack shiver. He felt fear tugging at him as he saw very inappropriate pictures in his mind, but what troubled him more was that he didn’t feel disgusted.

\- And what’s that? – Jack asked, his voice unusually high.

\- You’ll see, - Pitch smirked and created a chair out of nowhere, sitting down like on a throne.

They didn’t say a word for the next hour or so. Jack was drawing on the wall with his staff, creating new drawings on it, careful to leave his name untouched. Pitch was silent too, probably watching. After some time like this Jack felt rested, and Pitch immediately reacted to that, calling him.

\- So, what are we gonna do?

Pitch didn’t say anything; he just took Jack’s staff in his hands and pushed it to the side, and then did the unthinkable. He grabbed Jack by the wrists and dragged him up, making him stand on both his legs. Jack felt very scared, so he held onto Pitch as tight as possible so he wouldn’t fall.

\- What do you think you’re doing?!

\- Teaching you to walk.

\- But I’m not gonna make it!

\- Bit by bit, - Pitch patiently said. – You don’t use your leg at all, so your magic doesn’t care about it. If you show that you actually _need_ your limb, it is going to start healing it. Now, - he ordered, stepping back. – Stop clutching my clothes, I am not letting go of you. You need to balance yourself, not jump on one leg. Can you do that?

Jack shuddered, reluctantly freeing his hands. Pitch held his promise; he was holding Jack’s wrists tight, making sure he was stable. Jack straightened his back and tried to stand like he would normally. His paralyzed leg wasn’t moving and it was as straight as it could be, so he adjusted the other leg accordingly and put his weight on the right side too. Obviously, he began falling down, but Pitch held firmly. Then Jack tried again, and again, and again, but nothing worked. Then he remembered something and tried imagining his magic flowing through his right leg, helping him out. He breathed in slowly and pictured the ice in his blood, helping him stand. He also concentrated on Pitch’s hands around his wrists, holding him, concentrated on the touch he felt and then…

It lasted only about a second, but Jack felt it perfectly. His right leg seemed to turn on for a bit, and _feelings_ rushed into it, he could _feel_ he had another leg again. He laughed brightly, and Pitch seemed to understand, nodding encouragingly. Jack tried again, and soon he managed to do it again, only this time he was left with something. He still couldn’t stand, but his leg _felt_ , and this was progress. Soon he though felt tired, so he asked Pitch to get him back to the couch.

Jack sighed and stretched himself, helping his leg up. He couldn’t help but smile when he felt fingers on his leg, he knew well it was _his_ now, not like a doll’s part glued to him. Pitch seemed to notice the change.

Pitch smiled to himself. Jack’s leg was healing, little by little. He obviously felt it; he felt his fingers with his leg when he brought it up on the couch. Pitch was happy, as much as he could be; Jack was getting ready to be his ally. But it was more than that; the stupid little winter spirit had somehow gotten in under the wire. He made Pitch _feel_ , made him care about someone other than himself. He felt attached, though he didn’t show it.

Curious, Pitch reached out and touched Jack’s right leg. He flinched, but soon relaxed under the hand. Pitch ran it up and down, watching Jack sigh and close his eyes. The boy obviously felt his touch, not only saw it. He ran his palm over the knee and down to the calf, then back up and stopped at mid-thigh. He was unsure of what exactly he was doing, but they both enjoyed it, so Pitch became bolder and traced the inside of Jack’s thigh, and that’s when Jack opened his eyes and stared at him with fear. Pitch knew it was fear, so he retracted his hand and excused himself, going back into his room.

Unknown to Pitch, Jack felt confused, but the realization that he _liked_ it was also there. Jack decided he’d leave it for now as he didn’t know what to do with it, so he simply got himself comfortable and slowly drifted to sleep.

 

CHAPTER 8

North was worried. He had turned on the Northern Lights, calling his fellow Guardians. He was alarmed by the sudden presence of the Boogeyman, but actually he was much more curious than he cared to admit. Why would the Boogeyman come to his castle, without his Nightmares, leaving no destruction, and, as North could tell, try to talk some sense into them? Obviously, North knew what they all had done to the Balance, but it was just for some time, they would settle it later, right? Well, now North wasn’t already sure of his actions, but the Man in the Moon had said it was right, so he had to keep it up. North sat down at his table and threw his hands up in despair.

The plan had been simple at first. To track the Boogeyman down and gang up on him, murdering the bastard. Of course, it had seemed easy, but the Man in the Moon had deemed it useless, judging by the strength of the Boogeyman. So, then they had a plan B, as to say, to use the help of the new Guardian, Jack Frost, who was oblivious to the war they’d been leading for centuries. But Jack somehow didn’t turn out as they wanted him to. He was strong, yes, and determined, but he also was very smart and sensed something was off. Initially they’d told him that the Boogeyman tried to take over the world, but there had been no signs of it, so Jack had started doubting. And then their first meeting with the Boogeyman, their fight. Jack never told them what had happened, but considering his behavior, it was something very-very wrong. So they had read him all the scary stories about him, but nothing seemed to work. Jack was convinced the Boogeyman had to stay alive.

And then the Balance began shattering. Of course it did. Jack had almost lost his voice trying to explain it was because the Dark needed to exist, or the Light would fade, too. But there was Darkness, right? There were Nightmares. But apparently, Jack had been brainwashed by the Boogeyman, who he had turned out to have been visiting all the damn time, and bloody talking to, getting to know things he wasn’t supposed to know. That was when he’d screamed at North that they were planning to use him to defeat the “bad guy” and then he wouldn’t be needed anymore. Of course, it wasn’t true… well, maybe not all of it. Bunnymund had taken to disliking Jack from the start, but Tooth, on the other hand, liked him and said he was a good friend. North hadn’t been planning of cutting Jack off completely from their lives, but they would meet less.

And then Jack found out. He had somehow gotten to know the real plan and didn’t like it at all. He had found out they weren’t planning to defeat him, they were just going to get into his lair (his _home_ , as Jack had put it) and stab him in the back as cowards would. He had also found out they had been fighting for centuries and said it wasn’t his war at all and pointed out he didn’t want to “pick sides”. Then he had shouted at North that it was their fault that the Balance was off and that he wasn’t going to fix it for them. And he had also said he would be the dark side and murder them if they dared touch Pitch, because “you can’t just eradicate the ruler of the Darkness, or it will all go rogue!”  Jack turned out to have a good head on his shoulders, and he was going to be an obstacle. North and everyone else had shed at least one tear as they agreed with the Man in the Moon about getting rid of Jack to achieve the goal they’d been yearning for. And the Man in the Moon had gone after Jack and stabbed him in the heart, and Jack had fallen. He was now lying dead in the same forest that had been where he’d gotten the new life of a spirit. How very ironic.

\- Hey North! Why did you call us? – Bunnymund appeared on the floor and closed the hole he’d come out of. – What’s up, hey, old friend? What happened? You look pale. – He looked concerned.

\- North? Why do you look that way? Is it all because… well, earlier? – Tooth flew through the window and sat down beside him.

\- Wait? So you know what happened? Tooth? – Bunny raised his eyebrows at her.

Sandy came by seconds later, a question mark above his head.

\- My friends, I have bad news. Boogeyman was here.

\- The Boogeyman? Here? What’d he want? – Bunny turned to face North.

“I don’t understand”, read the signs above Sandy’s head.

\- Came without Nightmares, screamed at me and poor Tooth, blamed us Jack’s death. As if he cares, - North gritted.

\- Oh god, - Bunny threw his paws up. – He never bloody cares. He just wants us to be sad for some time so he can gather his army and kill us. What else can he even do?

\- Hey boys, - Tooth suddenly said, drawing their attention. – My… my smallest Baby Tooth is missing.

\- What? How? – North got up. – Where she go?

\- I… I let them collect baby teeth by themselves, and she must have gotten off the usual way and gotten lost, - Tooth explained, tears on her face. – I don’t have any idea where she could be, but I think she is dead. – Tooth hung her head. – There’s just no other explanation. Someone must have killed her.

\- Someone, someone, - Bunny rolled his eyes. – The Boogeyman it is, I tell you. He wants us to be miserable, can’t you see it? And I’m sure he’s let those Nightmares go rogue.

\- Actually, the number of them has gotten smaller in the past few days, - Tooth read Sandy’s symbols out loud. – But who could be doing it? Boys, do you have any ideas?

None of the “boys” got the chance to answer. The window suddenly made an awful, but a familiar nonetheless sound, and North jumped to the switch, letting the Man in the Moon’s light in. He shone bright as ever, lighting up the circle on the floor. The Guardians gathered around it, trying to guess what the Man in the Moon had to say.

\- My dear Guardians, - a voice began, ringing in everyone’s head. – I have very sudden news. I don’t know if they are bad or good, you decide.

\- What is it? – Tooth asked, her voice an octave higher than normal. – What happened?

\- I must show you something. Please, do try to stay calm, whatever you see.

\- Is connected to the Boogeyman? – North questioned.

\- Yes, - the Man in the Moon answered. – Just about a minute ago I learned he had a… a guest in his house. It is very close to dawn right now, so I don’t have much time before I need to go. But I am afraid that if I don’t show it to you, you may never defeat him.

\- A guest? What does it mean? – Bunny tapped his foot on the floor. – Is it someone we know?

\- Unfortunately, yes, it is. – The Man in the Moon replied. – Here, let me show you something. Unknown to him, the… guest showed me his memories when he had hysteria. Lucky for you, neither of them know it happened, - and then the light from the Moon grew brighter and began turning into shapes. All the Guardians stared at them in horror.

And there it was. Jack waking up and realizing he had amnesia, the Nightmare, the Boogeyman saving him, bringing him to his lair, the training scene where Pitch touched Jack affectionately, Jack and Baby Tooth, Jack throwing a fit and clinging to Pitch seeking comfort.

\- How… how the hell did it happen? – Bunny roared. – Why is he with him? Why didn’t he come to us?

\- My dear Bunnymund, I am afraid Jack doesn’t remember anything, - the Man in the Moon said. – I think Jack has amnesia; this is why he needs training. And it also looks like his right leg is paralyzed, so he isn’t much of an ally for the Boogeyman, for now.

\- So that’s where she went, - Tooth’s hands flew to her mouth. – Jack had killed her!

\- Tooth, hey, is alright, is alright, – North came up to her and hugged her. – Better question is why Boogeyman didn’t say Jack is alive.

\- Why would he? – Bunny frowned. – It’s obvious he doesn’t wanna say it. I’m also bloody damn sure he’s gonna make a spirit Nightmare out of Jack. Why else would he do all that? – He circled the area where the light had been with his left paw.

\- Unfortunately, my friends, I have to go, dawn is near, - the Man in the Moon interrupted. – I hope that now that you know what is going on, you will make the right decisions. – And he disappeared in the dark of the early morning.

The Guardians began arguing. No one could tell how Jack had survived the attack, plus with little to no consequences. But the real problem was what they could do now. Everyone knew they had to attack quickly before Jack was strong enough to oppose them. But it was harder than it looked, mostly because Jack remembered nothing, and it meant only one thing: the Boogeyman could have told him all the wrong things. It wasn’t likely, but it was possible. Even though Jack had argued with them before, he would have never actually tried to hurt one of them; but no one knew what the new Jack was capable of.

It was quiet in Pitch’s home in the early mornings. Pitch was usually still asleep after the long night out, so Jack could enjoy the silence and have a good rest. Sleep didn’t matter to him much as he was a spirit, but lying down actually did help a lot. So Jack just lay there, creating little snowflakes without his staff, enjoying the comfort of his home. Wait. Did he just call this place home? It made sense. Pitch was the only one who cared to communicate with him, after all. But Jack knew it was more than that. Despite him being the sarcastic, egoistic, nasty bastard, Pitch was _home_. He felt so nice and so familiar that Jack wasn’t even sure what to make of their past relationship. Who were they to each other? Friends? Enemies? _Lovers?_ Who? Jack would technically learn to live with any of it, as he didn’t have any other choice, but he preferred to think they never were enemies, because that meant Pitch was probably making Jack part of his great evil plan to destroy the world. Jack didn’t want that.

It was useless to deny Jack had grown attached to Pitch. He knew that even if his friends showed up right here and healed him and invited him to leave, he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t be able to leave Pitch. He always meant only well to him, even though he was a bitch sometimes. He saved him from death, he was teaching him, he was healing him, _helping_ him. Jack smiled at the thought of Pitch by his side, forever and always. After all, what went better together than cold and dark? But what did it mean? Jack was awful at feelings, and even though at the beginning he hated the thought of being dependent on Pitch, now it didn’t feel bad at all, and _what the hell did that mean?_ He recalled people being in similar situations and the word _love_ popped in his mind. _No_ , he thought, that wasn’t possible. He wasn’t going to dwell on it, or it would eventually get even worse. Jack wasn’t the one to solve his problems immediately, so he made up his mind to leave it until it became impossible to avoid.

 

CHAPTER 9

_Two weeks later…_

Pitch didn’t go out early that night. He needed to calm himself down, or he wouldn’t be able to control the Nightmares.

Pitch sighed when he finished his work. It was bad enough to let Jack into his home with all the problems he had, and now he was doing what, developing _feelings_ towards the little winter spirit? That was worse than everything else that could’ve happened. But he couldn’t leave Jack, not now. He somehow had to deal with what he’d come to realize and make those feelings disappear. Pitch nodded to himself and gathered his Nightmares, ready to go home.

When he appeared at the entrance, he instantly felt something was off. What could’ve happened while he’d been away? Was Jack… in danger? Pitch had to keep him safe, so he ordered the Nightmares to guide the gate, took one or two with him and jumped inside. He needed to know.

What he saw made him boil with anger. He saw nothing. Jack wasn’t there. He didn’t even take his staff with him. At first Pitch thought he’d run away, but then recalled Jack could barely stand up. So he decided to take a better look at his surroundings.

Jack’s couch corner was all covered in ice and frost – and the floor too. There were huge blocks of ice here and there, and Jack’s staff was lying next to the dungeons, apparently having been thrown there carelessly. Pitch looked closer at the frost above Jack’s couch and noticed some words in it. The first he noticed were the ones Jack had written on his second day – his name and a heart. But the second line made Pitch shiver. It read something along the lines of “I love you”.

Pith growled, looking around more carefully, trying to find out how Jack had been taken. It was obvious now; Jack had been fighting back with all his might, using his lessons with Pitch. There were no signs of someone else’s magic though, and it didn’t make sense. But then Pitch noticed something that made him get enraged. A flower. There was a flower on the ground right about next to a big blob of ice. And that flower was all too familiar to Pitch. _It was Bunnymund’s flower._

Jack came round in the wrong moment, apparently. He figured he was somewhere dark, but warm, and that thing he was in was pretty small and soft and being dragged on and on through many turns like on a rollercoaster. His best guess was a bag. That’s when memories hit him, and he recalled being cornered _in his home_ , trying to fight back and then being knocked out by some weird hare creature. Yes, he could call Pitch’s home his too now, well, at least, if they weren’t going to kill him. Jack thought it was very likely, so he left the three most important words for Pitch in the ice next to his couch hoping he would notice. Jack just had to hope Pitch wouldn’t be mad.

Suddenly the rollercoaster came to a stop and he was dropped on the floor. Jack moaned and thanked everyone his captors hadn’t taken his staff, or it would be definitely broken by now. He tried to open the bag from inside, but apparently it was impossible, so he just had to wait until these… creatures opened it for him. Well, Jack didn’t have to wait long.

Jack stuck his head out of the bag and looked around. The room seemed familiar, but from this point of view he couldn’t guess where he’d seen it. In front of him there were four… well, _creatures_ , one of who he recognized immediately. It was the man in red from his dream, _Nicholas_ , was it? Another one was the hare that had knocked him out. The third one was a girl all covered in feathers that looked suspiciously like that thing he’d frozen once, only a lot bigger. The fourth, and the most interesting, one was a small fat man; he was hovering above the ground and throwing some yellow substance all around himself. It looked a lot like the Darkness Pitch wielded, but it was yellow. None of the “Fantastic Four” were exactly pleased to see him, but at least the girl wasn’t mad.

\- Uh, hey guys, - Jack waved uncertainly, climbing out of the bag and sitting down on the floor. He could walk quite well now after training so much with Pitch, but he felt like he had to hide it from them. Plus, his leg still hurt sometimes, but at least it wasn’t numb like before.

\- Hello, Jack! We missed you! We thought you were… - the girl smiled excitedly and started flying towards him, but the man in red stopped her, and she frowned at him.

\- Excuse me, but who are you? – Jack managed. He really didn’t have information about these creatures; his best guess was that _they_ were the Guardians, his “ex-friends”, as Pitch liked pointing out.

\- Who are we? W-who are _we_?! – the hare choked on his breath. Apparently, he didn’t expect that question.

\- Well, I kind of forgot everything, and I haven’t seen you since the accident, so well, I can’t remember you lot, - Jack remarked sarcastically.

\- You don’t remember us? What you remember? – Nicholas questioned, and Jack raised an eyebrow at him.

\- Nothing, obviously, just something about winter, - he replied, being careful as to not say any unnecessary information.

\- There you go! You are winter spirit, Jack Frost! – Nicholas boomed, and Jack had to close his ears to prevent himself from becoming permanently deaf. Jack tried to act surprised, but he wasn’t much of an actor, and the hare, unfortunately, noticed that.

\- North, stop all this, - he rolled his eyes. – Jack over there knows a buggin’ lot more than he says out loud. Obviously, Pitch taught him to stay silent, didn’t he, _Jack_? – Jack had to back off from the gaze that the hare gave him. His Australian accent was very audible when he was mad. Well, Jack was mad too. How dare they accuse Pitch?! He’d saved Jack when no one else cared, given him his home, taught him how to handle his powers and walk! So what if he was the Nightmare King? People needed those anyway!

\- Shut up, you damn kangaroo, - Jack couldn’t help that word rolling from his tongue. It suddenly clicked in his mind, and he realized… he’d been in a similar situation before. The hare only confirmed his guess.

\- How dare you call me that the second time?! I am no kangaroo! My name is Bunnymund, - he drew every syllable of his name. – Now search that head of yours and tell me if it rings a bell!

Jack huffed at him.

\- Told ya, I have no idea who you are. Sorry, Bunnymund, - he said it the same the hare just had. – I can’t promise you anything. Besides, I have to get back. You know, I need to go home, - Jack played brave and hoped they’d let him go. His worst fears came true when he was grabbed by the hood of his sweatshirt.

\- You going nowhere, - Nicholas said next to his ear. – You think we will let you go back to Pitch? We will not! Please, listen us and stay here, you can make you comfortable, - he suggested.

\- Let me go! – Jack began kicking his legs in the air. – I don’t know you!

\- Jack, please, - the girl looked at him with her big eyes. – We understand you don’t trust us yet, but you need to stay here. We can’t let Pitch have you and destroy you.

\- Oh, it’s like you know _everything_ about Pitch, - Jack hissed at her. – Do you know he was the only one there for me when I was dying in the middle of nowhere? Or do you know he taught me to handle my powers and helped me heal? Or perhaps the fact that Pitch was there when I had a fit and comforted me? And where were _you_ then, if you care about me so much? – Jack asked, anger clear in his voice. How dare they?!

\- Jack, we… we didn’t know about you, - the girl protested. – If we only knew…

\- Jack, - Nicholas interrupted. – We understand Pitch was kind to you, but he needs be destroyed. He is evil and plays with minds. Maybe it was he made you suffer.

\- Oh really, - Jack turned to face Nicholas, though it was hard considering he was still holding him up. – And why would he need that?

\- Jack, you need trust us. We will keep you safe here and then we deal with Pitch.

These were the final words that Jack heard from Nicholas. He tried to protest, but no one heard him. He was taken in Nicholas’ arms and carried somewhere up and brought to a room. Before Jack could say anything, Nicholas put him on the bed and quickly closed the door. Then he said something quietly that sounded like “It’s for your own good, Jack” and walked away.

Jack gathered all his might and walked to the door, limping heavily. He pushed it, but of course it was locked. He could try to use his powers, but all he did was freeze the door, and it didn’t break. So Jack looked around the room in search of another exit, but the only other possible escape route was the window, but it was far too small for Jack to fit in. It was just useless.

Jack broke into a crying fit and slid down the door, hiding his face in his hands. He just had to hope Pitch found him. He preferred not to think what would happen next, and if Pitch decided to throw him out because of that stupid confession. He just wanted to see the face of the one who had saved him one last time.

Jack looked up and turned to the window in hopes to see Pitch there, but there was only the Moon. The half-moon. He just stared at it, at the yellow half-circle, and pleaded for answers. For _something_. He began reciting the conversation with the Guardians (apparently) in his head. And then Jack heard the rustling of wings next to him. He turned his head and saw… a man.

The man was similar to what he’d imagined the Man in the Moon looking like, but brighter somehow. His head was wrapped in a halo that glowed yellow and orange, and he was dressed in a completely white tunic that sparkled like the Sun itself. Jack was confused: why would that man be here? Who was he, anyway?

\- Jack Frost, - the man said thoughtfully. – Ying and Yang, the good and bad. The soft ice.

\- W-what? – Jack stuttered. – Who are you?

\- My name is Helios, Jack Frost, I am the Sun. I want to help you.

\- You want to help me? – Jack beamed. – Wait a minute, - he frowned. – What do you mean, the Sun? Why are you here?

\- I am here to fix the world that they have failed, - Helios said in that same thoughtful tone. Did he even _have_ emotions?! – I am here to recreate the Balance.

\- Oh, that’s good, - Jack sighed. – Wait. Are you going to kill…. – he stopped at the realization that Helios could be here to murder Pitch.

\- No, I am not killing anyone, - Helios promised. – I will have new creatures restore the Balance, and later you will see how. Do not worry; the Boogeyman will be okay, as well as your past friends. Oh, - Helios bit his lip. – I need to do something before I go. Here, - he pressed a hand against Jack’s forehead, and he fell down, hitting the floor. And then he saw… his _memories_.

He witnessed his birth as a spirit, the kidnap by the Guardians, the explanation, first fight with Pitch, the truth, suspicion, then… then the realization they’d been lying all along, the Man in the Moon hitting him “on behalf of all the Guardians”, his near-death experience. And then the wake-up with amnesia and a paralyzed leg.

\- So _that_ was what happened?! – Jack asked, eyes wide. – Did they attempt to _murder_ me once they found out I was in their way?!

\- Unfortunately, - Helios said in his favorite tone. – But I can assure you that will not happen again. Now, Jack Frost, we have to go. By the way, Pitch Black is already down in the castle, if that is what you would like to know.

Jack cheered and took the hand Helios was holding out for him. It seemed like they had a lot to do, but at least Pitch was there to save him. He could take a look on his face and say goodbye, at least.

 

CHAPTER 10

Pitch was furious. His Nightmares were too, and the rage he felt could be _smelled_ in North’s castle once he entered. He strode inside, seeing the Tooth Fairy, Bunnymund and Sandy talking worriedly.

\- How good to see you again, - Pitch growled. – And where is our dear Nicholas?

\- What do you want here, Pitch? – Bunnymund snapped. – We aren’t giving Jack back, if that’s what you’re here for. We aren’t letting you destroy the world, so you can go away.

Pitch concentrated the Darkness on Bunnymund, and he was blown in the corner by the force.

\- I am afraid you are not in the position to give me orders, are you now, Bunnymund? – Pitch said in a fake-sweet voice. – Now tell me where Jack is, and I will spare your life.

\- Jack isn’t yours! – The Tooth Fairy screamed.

\- Oh, I take it he’s yours then? Jack should be free to choose, and I am delighted to inform you he made his choice long ago, - Pitch gritted and put up a shield against Sandy’s attack. – Tel me where you put Jack! Just tell me, and I will at least try to settle the Balance you have ruined by your stupid goal to kill me!

\- Go away, Pitch, you have nothing to do here! – Nicholas boomed from the stairs. – Or we are going kill you here and now!

\- Oh, go ahead, - Pitch stretched his arms wide apart. – Ready when you are.

A fight began. The Nightmares attacked, and the Guardians desperately tried to save themselves from the ever-hungry horses. Pitch just stood there, a smirk visible on his face. Oooh, they were going to pay for whatever they’d done to Jack. But suddenly everyone stopped, as strange light was coming from the staircase North had recently descended. Pitch looked that way and was shocked to see what he did. He was sure everyone else felt the same way.

It was Jack. A tired, swollen-eyed, but an alive Jack. He was slowly walking down, his limp obvious. One of his hands rested on the railing, and the other held the hand of a glowing man that Pitch had read about only in the oldest of books. He was sure that the Guardians didn’t have any idea who that was.

\- Pitch! – Jack screamed across the hall. He couldn’t hold back his joy. – Are you alright? – He freed his hand from Helios’ grip and began walking to Pitch, trying not to fall. Jack was beyond happy to see that Pitch was moving towards him too.

\- I am fine, but what about you? Did they hurt you? – Pitch asked with concern.

\- No, not at all. Tell me… did you see my… my note to you? – Jack breathed out. This was it.

\- Yes, I did. Jack… we really should discuss it later, now we have other things to worry about, - Pitch slowly freed his cape from Jack’s grip, and Jack realized he’d been holding onto the man all the time. – Tell me…

\- I remember, - Jack interrupted. – I remember everything. Helios helped me. He’s planning to…

This time Jack’s banter was interrupted, and Helios started talking. He really didn’t listen, but he was sure it was something about the Balance and how he was going to help restore it. Jack was clinging to Pitch instead; he was too worried about him to pay attention to anything else. But then there was that rustling of wings again, and Jack realized Helios had disappeared. So he had to ask someone what he was going to do.

\- You should’ve listened, - Pitch pointed out. – He said he was going to choose new creatures, and the Guardians that are here will only be symbols of their powers, that is all. And for now, as Helios said, we need to go home and have a rest. Tomorrow the new world will begin.

Jack looked around and saw the furious Guardians chatting angrily. They were obviously disappointed, but they couldn’t argue with Helios. By the way…

\- Pitch, who’s Helios? – Jack asked, looking at Pitch while he was gathering his Nightmares.

\- Helios is the symbol of the Sun. He doesn’t interfere with the world’s business, usually, I mean, until the situation becomes as bad as that, - Pitch replied, hinting at the Guardians. – Come on, Jack. Time to go home.

And they disappeared in the shadows, reappearing in the comfort of Pitch’s home.

\- Pitch, I wanted to talk to you about… well, - Jack began uncertainly. – I’m sorry for that…

\- You don’t have to be. I’m not the one to judge, now am I? – Pitch smirked.

\- Are… are you going to throw me out?

\- No, of course not. After all, I saved you. And you know what?

\- What? Tell me, - Jack looked Pitch in the eye. What was he about to say?

\- I won’t tell you. – Pitch said, and Jack pouted. – I will show you instead.

 

EPILOGUE

Once there was a world which was imbalanced from the start. There was only one dark creature, but there were five light ones, and Light outweighed the Dark. But then a new creature came, and it was initially made to defeat the Darkness by the ruler of the Light – the Man in the Moon. But Jack Frost, for he was the new creature, had a good head and realized that everything had to be stopped. And then the Balance was off, and Jack Frost was nearly killed, which completely imbalanced the Scales.

But then Jack Frost came to life, and as he didn’t die, Helios came to realize that he was nothing less than the symbol of Darkness and Light together, the Ying and Yang. He wanted to settle the Balance, bring the world back from the near-death experience. And so Helios came down himself and helped Jack Frost achieve his goal.

And now the world shall be balanced, as there are the new creatures to represent both sides, and they shall keep the Balance, for they were made in pairs: Alconost and Sirin as joy and sadness, the Leprechaun and the Goblin as good and bad tricks, the Fairy and the Witch as good and bad magic. And as the top of these creatures, as the symbols of Light and Dark, there shall be Helios himself and Pitch Black, the Good and Evil, the Light and Darkness. And Jack Frost shall be the reminder that Light and Dark can be mixed, that they cannot be separated. His power can be dark, but he has chosen the path of light, and so he is to be considered the middle, and his relationship with Pitch Black must be no coincidence.

And the previous symbols of Light, better known as the Guardians, shall be the symbols of their own powers, like Nicholas of Christmas or the Sandman of dreams. During the holidays the Light will outweigh the Dark, but it will bring no Imbalance, as it is not for long.

And so the Balance has been restored, and the world has been saved.

_And it’s a sad picture,_  
The final blow hits you,  
Somebody else gets what you wanted again  
And you know it’s all the same,  
Another time and place  
Repeating history and you’re getting sick of it.  
But I believe in whatever you do, and I’ll do anything to see it through...  
  
Because these things will change!  
Can you feel it now?  
These walls that they put up to hold us back will fall down!  
This revolution; the time will come for us to finally win…  
And we’ll sing hallelujah, we’ll sing hallelujah

_…_

_Tonight we'll stand, get off our knees_  
Fight for what we’ve worked for all these years!  
And the battle was long, it’s the fight of our lives  
But we’ll stand up champions tonight!..

_…_

_Hallelujah!_


End file.
